19. Noah
Chapter nineteen
Noah
My other soon-to-be sister-in-law—the one marrying my brother, not the one responsible for the headache currently pulsing behind my eyes—saunters through the open door of my office.
Camila plops down in one of the leather chairs of my seating area without waiting for so much as a greeting, and from my periphery, I can see her fiddling with the perpetual motion toys I have strewn about, then flipping through the magazines on the coffee table.
When I still don't look up from my overfilled inbox, she pops her gum, one of my few pet peeves.
"How may I help you, Camila?" I say with an indulgent grin.
Given Luxe's open-door policy, I shouldn't be surprised to have a visitor. I actually wanted a distraction from the clusterfuck that Pinnacle's latest movie is turning into, but as the sister of the producer, Camila is definitely not that. She feels more like a double-agent.
"So how's it going on the set of 'Forced Proximity'?" she asks in her too-cheerful singsong voice. I wince and close out my email window.
"You actually like that name?"
She shrugs.
"It's OK, I guess. Why? You don't like it?"
I roll my eyes.
"It's fine, but that's the problem. It's just fine. Fine doesn't get people excited to see a movie. It doesn't stick in people's heads in the six to nine months between the first trailer and release."
She moves to the seat in front of my desk, her expression serious for the first time since she walked in.
"Is that really what's got you brooding in your office like a storm cloud, or is it maybe something else?"
I sigh. I feel like I should disclose what's going on with Awa. Maybe not to the other partners, but Camila's less than a month from being family. Surely she can keep a secret for her brother?
"In addition to the leads butting heads," I start, feeling heat creeping up the back of my neck, "there's some…personal stuff that's making the set of 'Forced Proximity'—" I pause, "or whatever it's going to be called—even more tense than it already is."
She leans forward, and now there's a shrewd gleam in her eyes. No wonder she decided to become a lawyer after years as my brother's paralegal—two seconds in my office, and I'm ready to tell her everything.
"Go on," she prompts when I remain silent.
I take a deep breath.
"Awa and I know each other," I admit. "From college."
Her face remains blank.
"And?" she asks. "Rory told me you guys have been at each other's throats. It's gotta be more than just 'knowing her from college'."
"We…" I hesitate, then walk to close my office door. We certainly don't need this getting out.
"We, like, know each other." I lift my eyebrows to emphasize my meaning, and a mischievous grin spreads across Camila's face. I immediately regret saying anything.
"Oooooh!" she draws the word out. "So Noah bagged himself a baddie back in the day?"
I smirk at her antics.
"I wouldn't say I bagged her," I correct. "We were friends. Study partners, mostly. Until we weren't." I sigh again. "It's complicated."
"It's complicated?" she teases. "How very Facebook of you."
"In the case of Awa and me, it really was complicated. Things escalated one night after weeks of staying squarely in the friend zone. And then we just, kinda, petered out."
It's not the whole truth, but given the eagerness practically radiating off of Camila right now, a half-truth seems safer for all parties involved. The last thing I need is for this to get back to Rory. She slumps against her seat.
"Well, that's no fun!" Camila pouts. "I wanted the juicy deets."
"There are no 'juicy deets'," I lie through my teeth.
Because the 'deets' are juicy as fuck. So juicy that it took years to finally stop fantasizing about her, even with all the female company I enjoyed.
One glance from those brown eyes, so deep I could fall into them, and that hard-earned peace of mind was shattered.
It's junior year all over again; I'm sneaking glances at her cleavage every few seconds and getting an inappropriate thrill any time she's forced to address me directly. It's maddening!
"Well…" she considers briefly, "if it's no big deal, then can you maybe introduce us?"
If I were drinking coffee, I would've done a spit take.
"Why on earth would I introduce you? She's making my life hell at the moment. You know that, right?"
"Yeah," Camila agrees, "but that's because she's so amazing at her job. No offense, but I've wanted to be Awa Faye ever since I saw her feature in Deadline Hollywood. She's fierce about her clients. It's probably why Tabitha Styles has her on set instead of her agent."
I bristle at the wistful sound of her voice.
"If you want to be Awa Faye so much, why didn't you reach out to Gehrig & Associates instead of Luxe when you passed the bar?"
My petulant tone surprises even me, and Camila frowns.
"It's not like that," she insists. "She's just a total badass. Did you know she graduated at the top of her class at Columbia Law?"
I didn't, but I was also actively avoiding hearing anything about her since we last spoke.
"She served as the editor-in-chief of the Columbia Law Review, and some people thought she should've clerked for a justice instead of going into entertainment."
It shouldn't annoy me that Camila is gushing over objectively impressive achievements, but it does.
I chose not to pursue law school, to skip right to representing clients after landing that internship with William Morris.
I don't regret it, especially since it meant getting Dad off my back, but to say I don't have a slight chip on my shoulder over law school would be a lie. One I'll never, ever admit to anyone.
"So what? Do you want her autograph or something?"
Camila takes a pen from the cup on my desk and throws it at me.
"Don't be a jerk, or I'll tell your brother. I was just hoping for an intro. Maybe a lunch where we can talk as fellow women in a male-dominated field."
She lifts an eyebrow in challenge, and I immediately fold. I am being a jerk. And to someone my brother loves, no less.
"My bad," I reply, my voice softer. "I can ask if she's willing to meet, but I can't make any promises. As you know—and now you know why—things aren't exactly great between us."
She stands and pats my hand reassuringly.
"You can do it." She stops right before she exits my office. "And if not, I could always have my sister ask. She could ask if there are any roles open at Gehrig while she's at it."
She laughs before closing the door on my glaring face. We both know she loves it here. Despite its faults, Luxe is great about mentorship, and she's mere months from getting to work with clients directly.
I'll shoot Awa an email about Camila and let them take it from there. She may hate me, but I doubt she could resist helping another woman rising in the ranks. Hell, if she and Camila hit it off, she might even cut me a break for what happened all those years ago. One can only hope.